The Santa Under The Ice
by Parody-lover
Summary: Third in the TDI Murder Series. It's the holidays and you know what that means...High octane chases on ice,mistletoe kisses, presents and murder. FINALLY UPDATED
1. Chapter 1

Yes the holiday season is drawing nearer, so you know what that means! MURDER! Wasn't expecting that were you? Here's my present to you guys "The Santa Under the Ice" which most of you guys have already guessed who it was.

This story will start off differently than usually, as I have a few subplots that will be featured here. Enjoy. Also, I have added some references to the Total Drama Island special so sory to those who have not seen it yet, nothing big in here though.

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_In the meadows we can build a snowman, and pretend that he is Parson Brown…_

Walking In A Winter Wonderland was slowly being played from a nearby radio while a man, bundled up in every winter wear you can imagined walked through…well, a winter wonderland. Park Commissioner Hollis Dolan walked through Kensington Park, as snow fell down softly. The view looked like something out of a Christmas card: snow covered evergreens, kids playing in the background, dogs rolling on the snow…All that was left was a bona fide outdoor lake skating rink, and that was where Hollis came in. He carefully stepped onto the ice of the lake, making sure it was thick enough to open the rink, a usually big attraction around the holidays. If Charlie Brown and his friends could skate outside, why shouldn't kids here?

"Let's see, safe wiring, check," he said as he spotted an intern give him a thumbs up from a booth, near the lake. That was where the DJ usually played music; the intern was in charge of checking if the wiring inside as well as the wiring to the big, tall, speakers were safe.

"Benches secure, check" Hollis carefully checked off boxes on a clipboard, 'ice thickness…:"

Suddenly out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something underneath the ice. It was thick, but clear enough to make out what seemed to be a red blob.

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_RING! RING!_ Dr. Bridgette Dodson, owner of multiple PhDs suddenly slammed her hand on the bedside table, blindly trying to turn off her alarm without lifting her head away from the warmth of her pillow. After a minute or so of trying to locate her clock by feeling, she realized that the ringing was coming from the telephone, and that being that it was midnight, her alarm wasn't going to ring anytime soon.

_Great, not again,_ she thought as she pulled herself up in a sitting position. Her window binds were pulled open and the streetlight clearly reflected off the snow on the ground. It was rather quite pleasant looking, but Bridgette was too busy trying to keep her eyes open to notice.

It had been a little over a month since Trent's death, but Gwen was still living with her. She had gotten over most of the grief but was now staying while she looked for new living arrangements. Something about the memories at her old flat and the fact that her neighbour was a killer seemed to have persuaded her in the decision to move.

While Gwen staying had its advantages and Bridgette liked the companionship, there were downsides to the whole thing. One being concerned friends and family members, who lived on the other side of the country, calling constantly to check up on her. Correction, concerned friends and family members who seemed to not understand the concept of time zones. The fact that the guest room where Gwen was sleeping didn't have a phone was irritating as well. Usually Bridgette would have to wake up, answer the phone, take the phone over to Gwen, come back, plop down on her bed, and then get wakened by Gwen who would come into her room to put the phone back. After the first ten times, it could get very aggravating.

"Dodson," Bridgette answered as she tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes. There was a mumbling on the other line, and soon the forensic anthropologist was really awake.

"She did what?"

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"Hey Bridgette, great to see you, wish it was under better circumstances though." Beth said, sitting across from a sleep-rumbled Bridgette at a table in a jail house.

"Beth, you really have to stop stalking people,' Bridgette replied.

"Hey, I don't stalk, I observe. Plus, this woman was going to pay me fifty grand for checking up on her ex-husband."

"So that gave you a right to sift through his garbage and break into the Hall of Records at City Hall?' Bridgette said, arching an eyebrow.

There was a pause, "…maybe…"

"Beth, you do realize that you'll be spending the next two weeks in jail right? And that was the lightest punishment."

Horror adorned the private detective's eyes, "what? No, I'll miss Christmas with my family, and then my dad will be giving me a field day about my chosen career. Please, help me out; he can't know I was in jail. I already missed his last birthday party because of the police. Come on, just let me have my freedom over the holidays and I'll serve my time afterwards!" She pleaded with the good doctor across from her.

Bridgette sighed, it was becoming a bit too apparent to her that she was a pushover when it came to friends, "I'll try but I have no idea how."

"Don't worry, I know the way. Turns out my judge is great friends with the District Attorney."

"So?'

"So, the District Attorney works for the government, and so does the FBI…"she trailed off, "and who works as a consultant for them, and is one half of the best homicide investigation team in Canada?" Bridgette looked unsure.

"I don't know, I'm not a string puller or a name dropper usually."

"Oh come one, Doc. It's already made easier with the fact that Leshawna's the District Attorney." It was true, that women definitely had a way with words, that and her stubborn and in your face attitude made her the perfect lawyer.

The doctor sighed, 'I'll try, but I'm not sure if that'll make things easier or harder."

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"Hot chocolate, Bridge?" Geoff asked as he came up to her with two steaming cups in his gloved hands.

Bridgette tried to stifle back a yawn, "Thanks, Geoff." Both of them were standing in foot high snow, by a lake. There had been remains discovered, although it was taking a while for the remains to actually be taken out from under the ice.

Geoff adjusted the tightness of his green scarf, "Get a good night's sleep last night, Bridge?" It didn't take a scientist to know that the answer was no.

Caught red handed, she stopped trying to resist and let out a yawn, "Beth was arrested for stalking …again. And now, maybe because of my lack of sleep, I've agreed to convince "Iron Will" Leshawna, to let her go for the holidays so that she can spend time with her family."

"Or, maybe you agreed because you're a great person," Geoff replied, punching her gently in the arm.

"Hmm, nope, pretty sure it was sleep deprivation," she joked back, "Anyways, you see Leshawna more nowadays, what do you think her reaction will be?'

He thought for a minute, "well, since you two were great friends on TDI, she's probably going to try to at least make a compromise, but she'll be expecting a favour in return."

"I was hoping you wouldn't say the last part."

"Agent Murdock? The technicians finally got the body out," a young agent in training said. The two investigators walked over, in special boots with spikes for easier walking on ice, but Bridgette paused as Geoff carefully stepped onto the frozen surface.

He turned to his partner, "What's the matter?"

Bridgette was having a difficult time choosing her words, "well, the thing is...I'm a bit...iffy, around ice."

"What? But you surf."

"That's with water Geoff. Ice isn't water...well it is, but its frozen water, and anyways, I was never a really good skater in the first place."

Geoff mulled for a bit, glancing occasionally at the taped off hole in the ice where Peyton was already helping put up pylons and police tape. After a while he held out his hand, "come on, we've got a job to do."

"Are you serious?" She looked at his hand for a while, and finally took hold of the proffered help.

Gently guiding her along, Geoff couldn't help but smirk, "I can't believe it took me fifteen years to finally find something that I'm better at than you. Other than throwing people off cliffs accidentally." (AN: Yes, a TDI special reference!)

Fighting the urge to push him down by reminding herself that she was currently holding onto him for dear life, she decided to go for another tactic instead, "Laugh it up, but you won't be getting any presents from me this year."

"Oh, come on! I can teach you how to skate. I taught my younger brothers, all four of them." He replied rather proudly.

She was about to make another comeback when someone interrupted her. "Took you guys long enough," muttered Peyton O'Riley as he passed his co-worker a ski pole, "here Dr. B this should help you a bit with balance."

Grabbing the pole while letting go of Geoff's hand she carefully bent down at the frozen corpse that was laid down on a tarp, a few metres from the hole in the ice.

"Male, early thirties, obviously very large. Some of the aquatic life must have had an all you can eat buffet," she said as her partner grimaced at the comment. Sometimes, when you're constantly work around things like these, it helps to joke around, although the joking can get a bit morbid at times.

"And he's Santa Claus," said Peyton. He turned around, yelling to the CSU workers, "don't tell your kids about what you did today guys."

"A man in a Santa costume, Peyton," Bridgette corrected him, "Jolly Old St. Nick doesn't exist."

"And if he does, he's way too busy working at the North Pole, it has to be an impersonator," Geoff quickly added, as if trying to correct Bridgette's grave mistake. He promptly received a few odd stares; he cleared his throat and started talking again, this time to Bridgette.

"So our victim was an overweight guy who was a Santa Clause impersonator, not much to go on, especially around this time of the year."

"We'll have to thaw this guy out carefully at the Jeffersonian without damaging the tissues. You two move the body to the truck while I take a sample of the pond water," she directed to her two male companions.

Geoff's eyes swiftly looked to Peyton who smiled cheekily and said, "You want to support the head or the feet?"

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"So...what are you guys doing for the holidays?" Geoff asked Peyton and Sarah, absentmindedly stirring his cup. Bridgette was busy getting ready for a meeting with Leshawna and Maurecia was busy trying to find the identity of their Santa.

"So...why aren't you at your own office right now?" was the response he got from Sarah. Geoff immediately frowned while Peyton just snickered; this is why you never have small talk with the O'Riley siblings.

Their little banter was currently taking place in the second floor of the Jeffersonian lab, which held the offices. Although, it wasn't a true, complete floor, it had more of a design of a shopping centre where the ground floor of the lab could be seen over the metal banisters that kept people off the halls of up above. Jutting out slightly, like an indoor balcony, was the open staffroom. Of course, it wasn't really a room; there were no walls, just a floor with nice plants, couches, tables and an extremely good view of the scientific activities going down below. It's amazing how much the budget of this place goes to getting lovely furniture and kitchen supplies. And it's no wonder Geoff preferred to lounge here than at the stuffy, plain staffroom at the bureau.

"Oh come on guys, humour me," he took a sip from his cup. He was sitting at one of the glass tables that looked like it would fit at a patio party.

"Eh, I'm probably gonna stay at home, watch a train reach the North Pole and see how Clarence gets his wings. Then Sarah and I are off to our parents' house. What about you?" Peyton finally replied.

"Going home to Nova Scotia for the annual Murdock Family Christmas Bash, everyone in my family always goes. Nothing but food, games, carolling and fun."

"Sounds...ah, fun."

"Yeah, the only downside is my mom and dad who keep pressuring me to start finding 'the one' and settle down." Geoff said, remembering of how his father always greeted him when he came home for the holidays with a "what? No girlfriend?"

'Whoa, I never thought your parents, the most chilled people of all time would say things like that," Peyton said, as he leaned in his bean bag chair.

"I told my mom that once and she said, "Geoffy-kins if I could meet your father, marry him and conceive you in a whole week surely you could find someone in a few years." And the fact that all my brothers are happily married with kids doesn't help either."

"But...you're the oldest brother," Sarah stated slowly.

"That's the point!" he sighed and he spotted Bridgette hurry up the stairs and pass them, but not before giving him a small wave, "anyways, what are you guys getting for Bridgette this year?"

"Oh I see what this whole conversation was leading up to, you want ideas for the best present ever," Peyton said in a mocking sweet tone.

"Doctor Dodson isn't the type who likes people lavishing her with things. It's one of the reasons she broke up with that millionaire's son, Tom, that and the sex change operation. But my point is, Bridgette doesn't celebrate it as much as she used to ever since her mom...you know..."

"Died," finished Peyton abruptly, "Christmas gets pretty depressing if you don't have a family, and Bridgette doesn't have any aunts or uncles or other relatives, unlike you."

A determined look adorned Geoff's face, "well I'm going to make this her best Christmas ever. Then, maybe as a gift to me she'll finally agree to go out on a date with me."

"You know, there are times when I just wanna drill a hole in your head and see how your mind works," Maurecia said, having caught the last part of the conversation, "Is the Doc around, I'm done with the identification."

'She has a meeting with Leshawna, so just tell me and I'll relay it to her latter."

"If you insist, but makes sure she sits down first." Ignoring the confused looks she continued, "Now when I first saw the body the first thing I managed to draw was this," she showed her colleagues a nicely drawn picture of a stereotypical Santa Claus, standing besides a Christmas tree, with a fireplace in the background.

"Maurecia..." spoke Geoff, a little sternly.

"Patience is a virtue Agent Murdock."

"I don't even know what a virtue is."

"It's a...never mind. Anyways after I got the holiday cheers out of my system, I started using the tissue markers and drew a pretty decent picture." She held it up.

"Huh, that's strange, it looks so familiar," stated Geoff, turning his head on the side and squinting to see if he could make it out clearer.

"It should look familiar, I checked it with the odontology department and the records. Our St. Nicholas is the guy who beat both you and Bridgette at TDI."

Geoff took a few moments to overview his memories. Then, he gasped, "Duncan?"

Maurecia groaned, "No, someone who beat all of you! Owen!" Geoff, of course, gasped again.

"Owen? But the dude was such a great guy. Who would want to hurt him?"

"Obviously someone who doesn't like Santa Claus," spouted out Sarah. She stood up, along with Peyton and said, "We'll go examine the remains. Geoff, see if you can contact any of Owen's relatives and friends."

"Gotcha," with that he quickly descended the stairs.

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Well, that's it for now. But I'll update real quick since I already have parts of the story typed up months ago. We'll be starting off with Bridgette trying to make a deal with Leshawna in the next chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, an update on ! Well, you heard the song, here's an update to liven up that Christmas magic.

And I know that Canada does not have the FBI, but since I'm already past the point of no return, and because FBI is a more familiar term we'll all just pretend that they live in a skewered reality okay? :shifts eyes quickly:

Oh and for those that are wondering we Canadians have the RCMP as well as CSIS as our FBI and CIA.

Another thing, I'm a bit dissatified with the number of reviews this is getting, so I'll be holding the thrid chapter hostage until I get a few more reviews...I know, I'm cruel, but though times calls for tough measures.

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"So you're telling me that Beth would like to be set free for Christmas, but would voluntarily go back to jail afterwards? Honey, that sounds like sucker's deal and I think you were the sucker," District Attorney Leshawna Reeves was strutting down the halls of the Hoover FBI Bureau, heading towards the staff room.

"I know, but you know Beth. Why don't you help a friend out?" Dr. Dodson could've tried harder to make a better argument, but was currently a bit busy trying to catch up with the fast walking lawyer. She had thought that this meeting would take place, well, in a place with tables and chairs where you could sit down, and was not prepared for Leshawna's hurriedness. She had made a point about that earlier, but the attorney merely replied, "Sugar, if you think this is busy, try talking to me on the day I have a court case."

They both entered the very stereotypical looking staffroom. Leshawna quickly poured herself a cup of coffee.

"You want some?"

Bridgette shook her head slightly, "No thanks, not much of a coffee drinker."

"Suit yourself, I personally cannot wake up without some."

"How's Harold?"

Leshawna smiled as she placed the cold cup of Joe in the microwave, "He's doing fine, just called yesterday, says San Diego's real nice. Harold Stinson, now acclaimed comic book writer was currently on tour. He was the creator of such famous characters such as the superhero the Red Light Bulb and Nixon, a lazy dog who loved spaghetti.

"Anyways, back to the original topic..."Bridgette desperately wanted to get this over and done with. She started as she watched Leshawna take a sip from her cup, then quickly poured the rest down the drain.

"Ugh, you would think that the government could afford some good coffee. Anyways, what were you saying honey?"

"Our little deal regarding Beth?" Bridgette said again, as she resumed trying to keep up with the lawyer as she started walking again.

Leshawna suddenly stopped at the doorway of her office, causing Bridgette to almost fall forward from the sudden break.

She sighed, "Well, Beth is my friend, and I still give her props for telling Heather off all those years ago," she paused to think it over. "I suppose I could pull a few strings."

Bridgette almost jumped up in joy, but that feeling stopped short when Leshawna continued to speak.

"But you owe me a favour."

"Geoff told me you would say something like that," Bridgette replied.

"Well did Geoff tell you I was going to ask you to kiss him?" It was a good thing Bridgette had declined the coffee, or else she would've been spitting it out all over the floor.

"What? What kind of a favour is that?"

"Hey, I could've asked for worse. Pretty easy task, sweetie, you've already kissed him before."

"But that was fifteen years ago! We're just friends now. Why on earth would you want me to kiss Geoff anyways?"

"Because it's always, Dr. Dodson this, or Special Agent Murdock that, I miss the good old times, you know? Plus, with Harold away for a while, I have a romantic side that has been left unnourished, and that side of me will not be denied."

"You know, most people in these situations ask for money," Bridgette started, only half joking.

Leshawna just arched an eyebrow and closed the door of her office, leaving Bridgette standing in the halls like an idiot.

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"Where's Geoff?" Peyton asked looking around the platform, "and for that matter, where's the Doc?" Indeed, the agent and anthropologist were nowhere to be found, the moment Bridgette came back, Geoff whisked her to her office, where (thanks to the glass walls) one could see Geoff talking, followed by Bridgette gasping and finally what looked like an awkward conversation centered on something entirely different.

"They've both gone to Owen's old residence, some apartment he rented located upstairs to a toy store." Sarah explained without looking up from the skeleton.

"How...Santa Claus-esque."

"Hey guys, get this, it turns out that Owen was working in a Santa Claus temp agency," Maurecia said key carding herself in.

"That explains the Santa suit, and why on what remained of his beard, evidence of white hair dye," she proceeded to lift up Owen Harding's skull, and then placed it under a large magnifying glass. "Look at this mark here at the base of the skull."

"There's a minute hole with widely spread radiating fractures, if something that caused this were to hit his skull here before he was dead, then it's a safe bet that that's what killed him," Peyton said taking the skull from his sister's hand and brushing it with something.

"Well duh, a hit like that would've caused immediate bleeding in the brain and other damages, he would've literally dropped dead," Sarah replied, taking the skull back.

"So let me get this straight, what we have is a fat man with a white beard in a red suit, who's been smashed in the head? No wonder they say the holidays can be stressful. I'll go call Geoff."

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"No way," were the first words out of Bridgette's mouth as she got out of the car, "this is Jolly Nick's Toy Emporium! My mom would always bring me here around the Christmas season. It's been thirteen years since I came here. Looks like barely anything's changed."

Jolly Nick's Toy Emporium looked like it was taken out of a Christmas television special, it was painted with red and yellow paint, had very bright lighting and had that over all Mr. Rogers, life is just beautiful atmosphere. Classic toy cars and dolls sitting in the window display, along with a model train chugging merrily on tracks.

The tiny bell attached to the door tinkled while the two opened the door. An older man, with small tuffs of white hair on his otherwise bald head was wiping the glass counter.

"Excuse me? Jolly Nick?" Geoff asked. The man looked up in response, his small glasses perching precariously on the bridge of his nose.

"That's me, not what can I get you folks?"

"I'm Agent Murdock from the FBI and this is my partner Dr. Dodson, we're investigating the murder of one Owen Harding. He lived here according to the records."

Jolly Nick let out an uncharacteristically un-jolly sigh, "Yep, Owen lived upstairs. Good man, not the brightest, but he could make you smile on a rainy day. He was always so interested in my toy making, and always paid his rent on time, in cash too. I'm sure gonna miss him."

"Well, we're sorry for your...uh...loss. Can we go up to where he lived?'

"Sure, come on, it's just up these stairs." The trio walked up a flight of bright red stairs, its beams lined with holly and tinsel. When they finally reached the room, it was obvious that the Christmas spirit was alive in there. The room seemed to be either green or red, with a huge, fresh evergreen in the middle of the room, a small toy train moving around under it. Stockings were hung by the window, each filled with candy canes and teddy bears, there was a plate of cookies and a glass of milk left on a table, obviously a snack that Owen had thought he would return to, and the lights, oh, there were so many lights, some flashing, other did not.

"Oh my God," was the first thing out of Bridgette's mouth. The living quarters were enough to give Hollywood Santa's workshops a run for their money.

"This is so cool," Geoff said, a child-like enthusiasm on his face, he walked over to the closet and opened it, revealing rolls of wrapping paper, holiday decorations and enough Christmas sweaters to make you think he had five knitting grandmothers.

"More like crazy, how can anyone be so psychotically festive?"

"Aw, where's your Christmas spirit?"

"Taking a break while I'm trying to find a murderer."

Geoff didn't know how to respond to that without making a fool out of himself and so merely turned to Jolly Nick "How come you didn't report Mr. Harding missing?"

Nick just shrugged, "Owen was never the kind a guy who could stay still for a long time. I don't know, sometimes he would be out for a few days on a spontaneous trip or a party, and then there was his constantly on-and-off relationship with the wild crazy chick, Izzy, I think was her name."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, did you say Izzy?"

"Yeah, sometimes when those two were together they'll have wild parties and not be home for weeks. Although it's hard to keep track of when he's seeing her or not, it fluctuates constantly. I think she may have been insane."

"Well, thank you…Jolly Nick, Dr. Dodson and I will be here for a few moments, doing…investigative things. You can go back down to your store." The toy maker complied, leaving the two investigators alone. The room was silent for a few minutes, neither daring to comment on their newfound information. Deciding that just standing there wasn't her thing, Bridgette moved briskly to the bed searching for anything interesting. It was at that point when Geoff decided to speak.

"I'll go phone the office, see if they can track down where Izzy was these past few days.," as he took out his phone, Bridgette was pulling off the bed covers (which were predictably red and green) and checking under the bed with a flashlight. Among the treasures under the bed was an old sandwich, (at which point the good doctor decided to put on plastic gloves…for reasons of not compromising the scene of course…) some discarded clothes and finally an old metal safe box with a lock.

Pulling the box out of the bed, and dragging an old T-shirt that was snagged along with it, Bridgette carefully placed it on Owen's wooden desk.

"Geoff, I think I found something, although it's locked and I don't have the key." Geoff had gotten off his phone call and walked to the desk looking at the box from so many different angles and with some intensity you'll think he was trying to open it with his mind.

"Well I could always shoot the lock off…" Bridgette let out a sigh at his comment.

"What do I keep telling you?"

Now it was Geoff's turn to sigh, "That guns are not the answer to everything and even though I am a trained Special Agent does not mean I can go about shooting things with my gun… I mean come on, it's the perfect chick magnet; beautiful girls and big guns, what's more perfect?" He quickly shut himself up when he noticed Bridgette's dagger like stare.

"I'm going to ignore the last comment and try to find a hair pin to pick this lock." She opened the desk drawings searching for anything that could help. Geoff quickly followed, rummaging through the closet.

Thinking it was a good time to speak again without risking her shooting _him_, he started talking, "so what was the favour?"

"What?"

"You said you talked with Leshawna and that I was right and she wanted a favour. But you didn't continued after we got a call about this place. What was the favour?"

"Nothing, just nothing. It doesn't concern you." _That much_ she added in her head.

"You sure it's nothing, because I could help you know…that's what friends are for."

"I'll ask for your help when I need it, Geoff. Can we just change the topic now?" _Subtle, Bridge, real subtle. Mom was right, it's a good thing my life doesn't depend on my negotiating skills._

"Okay then." A beat. "What are you doing for Christmas then?"

Bridgette shrugged, but since Geoff was busy staring at the contents of the closet he didn't see, "I don't know, probably do some paperwork, maybe I'll sneak into the Jeffersonian to do some extra research." Geoff finally diverted his whole attention on Bridgette.

"You can't do that, Christmas is a time for celebrating, for eating until your stomach explodes, for…"

"I get it, I get it," she replied, before he got into a full blown speech. "But I am not you, Geoff, I don't have families to visit, much less a family's Christmas bash to go to."

"Then why don't you come to my family's Christmas bash?' Geoff asked, a light bulb flicking on over in his head.

"Wait…what? You want me to go with you to the Murdock family Christmas Bash?"

"Yeah,"

"So in other words you want me to meet your parents and all your brothers and the whole Murdock family?"

"Yeah, think of my invitation to you as your Christmas present. Is there a problem?"

"It's just…it's you…and me, with your parents…and what with what happened on TDI…"

"Oh, you're afraid of what my parents will think of you," he smirked, "you're afraid that they might think that you weren't good enough for there Geoffy-kins."

"Your parents call you Geoffy-kins?"

He cleared his throat all of a sudden, "Only sometimes…You're avoiding my question."

She looked at him for a moment, "It's just, when you and I were on Total Drama Island the only thing I really did was either make out with you or put you in a gurney, none of which are relatively good things.

_I don't know, I thought the making out was a really good thing._ "Don't worry, my parents will love you."

"I'm still not sure; I for one would be just as happy staying at home, getting some work done. Christmas has become too commercialized in my opinion. I mean, think about it, people are murdered, abused and live on the streets everyday, and yet all we care about during this time of the year is a jolly, non-existent fat man bringing us presents? Kinda shallow if you ask me."

"Well, yeah but Christmas is also about family and appreciating the people you have. Come on, just come with me to Nova Scotia, it'll be fun."

"I'll think about it," was the only reply he got, and soon the room was enveloped with silence again.

"Look, I found a hair pin, will this do?"

Bridgette looked at the piece of wire in his hand, "I think so."

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A few minutes and unsuccessful tries later, they finally managed to open the box, revealing what could be only described as, obscene amounts of wealth.

"Holy…look at all these wads of cash and jewelry, how the heck does a guy in a Santa suit get so much money?" Geoff asked amazed, as he started pulling evidence bags out.

Bridgette quirked her head to the side when she spotted what appeared to be a brown leather bound book at the bottom of the box, "Maybe this might help us. I think it's Owen's diary."

Geoff snorted, "Bridge, only girls have diaries, guys have journals."

In response, she read out the latest entry, 'Dear Diary…"

"Okay, guys who are NOT Owen have journals," Geoff was quickly shushed.

"I'm not sure if I should continue trusting Duke or not, sure he seems like a nice guy and he says that he's like a modern day Robin Hood, but still, pick pocketing your clients doesn't seem that good." She paused, with a strange look in her eyes, but her partner gestured her to continue.

"Maybe I shouldn't have taken that bribe money, maybe I should ask Izzy, she's smart." She stopped reading, and closed the diary. "Wow, this is…I don't know what this is exactly, but I did not see this coming."

"Looks like we're going to have to pay this Duke guy a little visit at the Santa temp agency."

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And there you have, tune in next time, because, not wanting to spoil anything for you but there is some exiting things that will be going on, including a chase scene! On ice!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three coming at you right now!

…That's it, I don't have much to say, although, if any of you people have the Fox network, you guys can check out Bones on Christmas Eve at eight or nine (I'll have to check the schedule later) they'll be airing the episode which inspired this story.

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"Santa Claus does not exist."

"Whoa, Bridge, please don't say that when you meet my nieces and nephews, please," This little conversation was currently taking place on the streets of Downtown, where cars were bustling and crowds of people were walking among a backdrop of tall skyscrapers, designer stores with ridiculous prices and strings of lights on bare trees.

"But I didn't even say if I was going yet," Bridgette replied, squeezing her way on the sidewalk between hoards of shoppers carrying loads of bags, walking to another store to get even more bags of soon-to-be presents.

"But I know you'll say yes," Geoff replied, stopping for a while to throw a few coins into the pot of a skinny Santa Claus ringing a bell.

Bridgette just shook her head, dropped a few coins in herself and continued walking. The air was crisp and cold, people's breaths visible whenever they talked or (more likely) complained and huffed. She repositioned her red scarf tighter around her neck and pulled her brown overcoat closer to her body. As they passed by a Santa Claus display in front of a jewelry store window they resumed their earlier conversation.

"Why are you so stubborn when it comes to Santa? Kids need a little magic in their lives you know. Didn't you believe in Santa when you were a kid?" Geoff asked as they stopped, waiting for the streetlight to signal go.

"I did when I was young. But I grew suspicious of the whole Santa Claus when I pulled off one of the mall Santa's beard. My dad said that since it was Christmas time, St. Nick was busy and that he was just a helper, but after a while, I stopped believing after I went over the impossibilities of the myth in my head."

"Okay well, maybe Santa's not real, but don't you remember how happy you felt when you woke up on Christmas and there would be the best presents under the tree?"

"I suppose…"

"Good, so when, notice I said when and not if, you come over to my parents, just relax and enjoy Christmas as it was made to be enjoyed. No talk about work, about Santa not being real, or about how Christmas has turned from a religious celebration into the prime example of our society's materialism." The last part was a direct quote of Bridgette from an earlier part of their discussion.

Despite trying not to, Bridgette smiled, "Agreed, except on the not if but when part, I still haven't decided yet." She looked up to read the street sign, "Hemlock Blvd. the head at the Santa Temp Agency said that Duke was usually stationed here, if he wasn't working as a mall Santa." Sure enough, they spotted another Santa Claus down the street, and while he didn't look as skinny as the previous one it was obvious that the man had taped a pillow to his stomach to give a more big-bellied impression.

They both walked up to him, grimacing slightly when the shrill clang of his bell rang in their ears.

"Duke Vaughn, we presume?" asked Geoff.

The man in the beard shook his head, "No, ho, ho, it's me, Santa Claus, trying to raise money for those less than fortunate kids." The man would've been a great games show host with the way he said his lines.

Geoff, getting real sick of his act real soon, flipped out his badge. "Well, I'm Special Agent Geoff Murdock, and you are?"

"Duke Vaughn" was the quick reply. Duke slowly stopped ringing his bell and pulled off the beard. The man looked like he was in his late thirties.

"That's better, now, me and Dr. Dodson, here…"

"That's Dr. Dodson and I," corrected Bridgette.

"Whatever, we're investigating the murder of Owen Harding, and we found some interesting things about some possibly illicit activities going on…" With that, Duke threw the bell at the two investigators (who dodged the incoming musical instrument) and ran off, knocking the donation stand over while grabbing the bucket.

"Damn it, why do they always run?' They both started running after the man, no small feat considering that the streets were crowded with people.

"Maybe if you haven't mentioned Owen and illegal activities right off the bat…"

"Less talking, more running!"

Duke ran as far as his legs could, and was starting to regret taping a giant pillow to his stomach as he turned back to see Bridgette and Geoff gaining on him. He kept running, now at an even faster speed. Pushing past people and ignoring their yells and shouts he quickly ran across the street…almost getting run over as a car and a cab both screeched to a halt.

As the drivers honked angrily at the speedy jaywalker Geoff and Bridgette kept up with the chase, Bridgette running around the two cars while Geoff opted for a more quicker route by sliding over the front hoods.

"I think he's going into the shopping centre, he thinks it's easier to loose us in there." Bridgette huffed out as she saw Duke push past a man coming out of the revolving door of granite and golden metal building, the bags he was holding literally knocked out of his hands.

There were only a few feet of distance between the chasers and their target. Thinking he'll be better off if he weighed lighter Duke quickly shed his Santa suit, ripped the pillow off his stomach and pocketed the money in the bucket and threw it back, hoping to knock one of them off their feet. Luckily for Bridgette and Geoff, it didn't hit them. Unluckily for an elderly lady walking by, it did hit her.

Duke ran up the escalator, surprising quite a few shoppers who had decided to just ride it as he ran past them. Bridgette and Geoff followed, and as Duke saw them coming closer, he vaulted over the side onto the adjacent escalator and started running against the direction the escalator was going.

"This is why I hate people who run away," Geoff managed to yell as he too leaped over the side. Shrieks came from a gaggle of surprised teenaged girls who were riding on the escalator he just leaped onto. Bridgette decided not to risk it and continued running up her own side, hoping to catch up with him.

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"Those guys are seriously getting on my nerve," Duke Vaughn, runner extraordinaire, was currently carefully climbing down the metal stairs outside shopping centre, seemingly having evaded the law. Key word was seemingly, as halfway down he spotted Geoff and Bridgette's heads pop out of the door.

"Damn it! I can't seem to get a break here!" He scuttled down, quickly but carefully so that he didn't slip on the ice.

Meanwhile back up top, the two investigators were trying to pick up speed, a hard thing to do when you're caught in the narrow spaces between metal platforms and metal ladders.

"Bridge, I'll be careful if I was you," Geoff warned, noticing the little puddles of ice here and there.

"What?" His partner, being slightly ahead, strained to hear him and in the process slipped on said ice puddle and came tumbling down a slight of stairs, landing with a thud on the platform. Although, given her track record, is that really a surprise?

"Bridgette!" Rushing down the stairs, Geoff tried to see if she was alright, while not getting hurt himself. Bridgette propped herself up, cradling her left arm.

"I'm fine, I think I might've broken my arm but I'm fine. Just go after Duke, Geoff."

"You sure…"

"Yes, now catch him before he runs away!"

Looking down, Geoff knew he could never catch Duke Vaughn by going down the ladders. Thus, he opted for a…different approach. With sheer bravery, (or stupidity, depending on how you look at it) he leapt over the railing, landing on the top of a dumpster. Running and sliding off it, launching himself slightly in the air and luckily managing to tackle Duke to the ground.

"And you said that football was a dangerous sport," Geoff said, proudly showing off the efforts of his great tackling skills- honed in by hours of practice- by lifting a handcuffed Duke off the snowy asphalt.

"This doesn't really prove it's not dangerous, Geoff," Bridgette said holding on to her supposedly broken arm as she lifts herself up and walks carefully towards them.

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"Could you please help me with the gravy, Gwen?" It was seven on the dot when Bridgette started setting up the table for dinner with Gwen, a little girl's night in. However, setting up a table was harder than you might think if you have one arm in a sling.

"Sure no problem." There was a comfortable silence as all that could be heard was the tinkling of metal utensils, "So anything interesting with your Owen case, or is it one of those, I could tell you but then we'll both be arrested kind of a thing?"

Bridgette chuckled in response, although a voice in the back of her head told her this was quite a morbid subject to laugh about, "No, it's fine…I think. Just don't go spreading it around or pawning it to newspapers. Turns out Duke was in charge of this gang of pickpocketting Santa Claus temps who also stole from the charity bins."

"Talk about your bad Santas. So, did you guys, what's that term, book him?"

"Yes, for stealing, refusing arrest and disruption of the public. We also got him to write down a list of his 'gang members' and will be sending it to the agency. Unfortunately, he has an airtight alibi. He was working as a mall Santa during the time Owen was presumably murdered, and he was on the mall security cameras."

"So, essentially, you hurt your arm for nothing."

"I wouldn't say that, we helped save people and charities from getting robbed by fat guys in red and white."

"But compared to solving a murder, you hurt your arm for nothing."

"Yes. Now why don't you put your artistic talents to good use and string up some Christmas lights on my window while I get the vegetables out of the pot."

"Why do I feel like you're forgetting to tell me something?" Gwen said cheekily as she pulled out a box of lights.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean is there something between you and Geoff …again? I mean when I picked you up at the hospital Geoff was practically fawning over you."

"He wasn't _fawning_ over me. He's just a really caring guy…who tackled someone." Bridgette exaggeratedly emphasized on the word fawning, just as Gwen had done.

'Yes, but you were acting a lot like you would in your pre-make-out-with-Geoff-on-TDI days."

"Nothing is going on Gwen."

Gwen smiled the kind of smile that always made Bridgette a little on guard, "Maybe, then perhaps you could explain this." She walked over to the answering machine that Bridgette did not check when she came in from work. Gwen pressed a button and soon Leshawna's voice filled the room.

"_Hey, Bridgette, I'm just calling about our little deal-"_ the voice message was cut off when Bridgette pressed the stop button.

"It's nothing, probably just a little something to do with the case…"

Gwen pressed play again.

"_-regarding Beth-"_ Bridgette pressed stop again.

"Well, you know about the Beth situation and I promised to help her."

Gwen pressed play…again.

"_-So anyways, I'll be free tomorrow, so I'll be coming down to your office-" _Stop

"It's probably just a little lunch thing."

Play _"-so you and Geoff better be there.-"_ Stop

"Geoff and I usually eat lunch together on workdays, so what if Leshawna joins. Let's stop here, I think our dinners are getting cold."

A refusal, followed by a Play _"-oh and ps you'll have to supply your own mistletoe for your little smooch with Geoff, see ya!"_ A long beep was heard, signaling the end of the message. Gwen looked at the doctor who just smiled sheepishly.

"There are a lot of other Bridgettes out there you know. It's a big city."

"Okay, that was a terrible excuse, even by your standards."

"Alright, I admit it, in order for Leshawna to let Beth go for the holidays, I have to kiss Geoff under the mistletoe."

"So, what's the problem? You've kissed him before, made out with him before too…multiple times in fact. I swear, you guys kept hogging the hot tub…"

"Yes, Gwen I admit I've," Bridgette paused, searching for the right word that wouldn't make her sound like a sixteen year old girl with a hungry libido, "snuggled with Geoff before but that's a thing of the past. Besides, I have a great friendship with him and I don't want to…encourage him into trying to get me to jump him."

"Uh huh, so did you tell him about the favour yet?"

"No, I didn't want to excite him even more, I still have to decide whether to go home to his parents for Christmas. I'm thinking about telling him in my office before Leshawna gets there."

Gwen gave her a look that she couldn't really decipher, "Gee that sounds like a great plan."

"You were being sarcastic again, weren't you?"

"No, of course not," Gwen said, settling down in her chair for dinner.

"There you go again."

"Okay sarcasm aside why don't you tell him in the morning, when he isn't truly awake yet. You know, before the coffee arrives."

"Because we're going to the Santa Claus temp agency in the morning and telling him while investigating a murder of a childhood mythical figure is not the best time," Bridgette said, trying to use a fork and a knife at the same time with her good hand.

"I guess you're right, although I wouldn't know for sure since Trent and I never investigated murders."

"Was that sarcasm again?"

"No, that was a joke. But let me tell you, when Trent and I met again after Total Drama Action, we wanted to just stay friends too."

"Just eat your mashed potatoes." Bridgette said with surprising authority. And while that stopped the conversation in the room, it did little to stop the conversation going on in her head between her and her conscience.

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Admittingly, I'm not too proud of this chapter, I think the chase scene was a little drab, don't you think? Anyways, sorry for the long wait, I've been busy, what with Christmas and the snow here in Vancouver. It's nearly up to my knees now! Anyways, I think I will be finishing this story after Christmas, but hopefully before New Year's.

You know what I want for Christmas? Your Reviews, they really inspire me! And quickens the writing and updating process…wink, wink


	4. Chapter 4

First off, I would like to say that I am truly sorry for this overly late, overdue update. School's just been throwing out so much stuff and lately we had course planning for out grade 11 and 12 years. Truly i am sorry, so I'll understand completely if no one reads this and doesn't review. But if you do actually find the time to read it and remember this fic please drop a few words m'kay?

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"Find anything yet?"Sarah, the medical examiner of the Jeffersonian asked as she carded herself onto the platform.

Her brother Peyton looked up from the remains, "Gee, morning Peyton, how's my brother doing? Fine, thanks Sarah, and you? Not bad. See, Sarah, that's what normal people call a conversation starter." The glare he got in return made him resume his sister's original topic.

"Well, the snow covered everywhere so there's no way to find any more footprints, car tracks or blood stains anymore at the crime scene, but we did find something with the body. Unfortunately, it's still pretty vague."

"We'll take what we can get."

"The blunt force injury to the head indicates that he was hit with some sort of blunt stick...thing."

"Wow, that's very informative," Sarah replied sarcastically.

Peyton decided to ignore her comment, "as well, Dr. Dodson found some fractures around the left wrist bones."

"So? They could've happened way before he was killed."

"No way, there wasn't any callus formation around that area to show that it healed. Since it takes months for that to form and well, dead bodies don't heal I think it's pretty safe to say that he fractured his wrist earlier before he died."

"Just the left one? That's weird. Anything else? I have to start writing the report on this case."

"Yes, I've found traces of what appears to be cotton from cotton balls on the front of his suit, as well as a strand of tinsel stuck on it, and ketchup stains on the shirt he wore inside. And that piece of wet, yellow paper we found in his pocket? The lab techs reconstructed the picture on it to their best and managed to find the material of it as well as the ink, and they found that it matches the burger wrappers of a Fried 'R' Us food joint."

"So cotton balls, tinsel, ketchup and Fried 'R' Us wrappers were found on the body."

"Sounds like the beginning of a really gross joke," forensic artist Maurecia walked up, having heard on Sarah's last line.

"Actually, it's the beginning of finding the real scene where the murder took place. I couldn't find any trace of the dirt located in the region of pond which means Santa here was most likely just dumped there."Peyton said, "but you're totally right, it does sound like a really bad joke."

"So where's a place where we can find cotton balls, tinsel and a Fried 'R' Us?"

Maurecia contemplated, "well, I know they use cotton balls for snow in the West End Shopping Centre, and I'm betting there'll be tinsel there at Santa's chair, and while I don't go there since they don't treat the cows humanely there is a Fried 'R' Us in the food court."

"So he was killed at the mall in the seedy side of town, why am I not surprised?" Sarah sighed and started walking away before anyone could answer her rhetorical question, "I'll go phone Dr. Dodson and tell her the news."

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"Owen Harding was the best Santa we've ever seen," a woman, somewhere in her forties, was busy typing something into a computer at the Santa Claus temp agency.

"Was that because he was the only few ones who actually looked like Santa?" Geoff asked, looking around; except for one or two fat men and one old guy who looked like he walked out of a Santa Claus film, the other 'Kris Kringles' were either very tall, skinny, Asian, black, or all of the above.

"That and he was always so jolly," the woman, secretary Anna Lockeheart replied, "I'm sorry if I can't give you any more information, but I don't work closely to the temps and my boss Peter Greer is away on a lunch meeting." She pushed back her orange brown hair with her manicured hands; long nails painted in a blinding red, green and white pattern except for one, which looked like it had been cracked. Slightly unbecoming for a woman her age Bridgette thought.

"Well, thank you Ms. Lockeheart, we'll keep in touch."

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"I don't believe it, we have no leads," Bridgette said, plopping herself unceremoniously onto her couch while avoiding pressure on her hurt arm, "Duke Vaughn and the rest of his pick pocketing gang have alibis. What about Izzy?"

"In jail," Geoff replied in a tone that screamed you shouldn't be so surprised "something about an arson charge."

"Go figure," she stood up and walked over to her desk opening her top drawer, "did you notice that that secretary was wearing some pretty expensive jewellery?"

"Yeah, I was going to talk to her about walking around like a giant mugging target, but you had to drag me out of there. What's so important about being in you office at noon?' He stopped and stared at the thing that Bridgette was holding in her good hand. "Mistletoe? Bridge, are you trying to say something?" He grinned a one thousand watt smile.

A sigh of exasperation rose from Bridgette, "Leshawna will only get Beth out of prison if you and I kissed, under the mistletoe."

"Why?"

"I don't know, something about Harold and feeling romantic. Can we please just act mature and kiss so I can get Beth out of jail?" _Never thought I'll have to say that sentence in my life_

Geoff seemed to have been thinking the same thing as he showed a strange look before speaking. "Okay then, we'll be just two professional friends giving each other a friendly platonic kiss under the mistletoe as a favour to another friend." He tried to sound like it was no big deal, but it was certain that there was a tiny Geoff somewhere inside his mind jumping up and down doing a solo wave and going "Boo Yeah!!!"

"All we have to do is wait for Leshawna to get here." _Are you there God? Can you please make Leshawna get caught in a non-deadly, but time consuming accident?_

"How's the case going Bridge?' Leshawna said strutting into her office, decked in a dark green woman's suit. _Well, gee, thanks for listening to me Big Guy._

Leshawna grinned at the usually composed pair of investigator stand around, not sure what to do, 'I see you've hung the mistletoe."

"Yes well, is Beth going to spend Christmas with her family?" Bridgette asked, in reply to her statement.

The attorney smiled, "Already made arrangements girl. Now I held my part of the bargain, what about you?"

Geoff and Bridgette both cleared their throats.

_Here it goes, _Bridgette thought as Leshawna gently pushed Geoff towards her.

"You know Leshawna, I could arrest you for blackm-" Geoff's little speech and plan was quickly cut short when Bridgette, with her good arm pulled him down by one of his lapels and ..well, kissed him.

_Don't think about it Bridge, just act normal, you are doing it for Beth, this is completely platon- wow, I've almost forgotten how great a kisser he is-NOT something you should be thinking about Bridge!_ The good friend inside Bridgette's head was trying to hold her ground against Bridgette's feminine side, who was currently noticing how buff her partner still was. Geoff wasn't faring better either.

_I wonder if she'll kick my ass if I tried some tongue action, whoa, don't go there man, think about something else...toenails...Chef's cooking...Chef in a dress! Ah there we go..._

Finally Bridgette's death grip on his lapel loosened and they pulled apart. It was a sweet, simple kiss, not the full blown make-out sessions they used to have but still.

Bridgette huffed, trying to get her breathe back, "There, was that enough seconds?"

A slightly shocked lawyer just nodded, "More than enough." Honestly she wasn't expecting them to have kissed at all, but seeing as she didn't want two disgruntled investigators to be mad at her she didn't voice the little tidbit. Regaining her composure, she managed to continue, "Admittedly, I've seen worse form you guys."

"Well, uh, yes, then...so Beth's off the hook?" Apparently, reminding someone of past make out sessions after they've kissed their make out partner for the first time in years, reduces people into stammering idiots.

"She'll be off cutting the Christmas turkey at the farm in a few hours. Gotta go, girl, I have stuff to do and I guess you and Geoff here may need a little alone time." The innuendo was not lost as the lawyer strutted out the door.

An awkward pause formed in the room, but honestly, was that unexpected?

"So, um, Bridge, I think I'll go...check on the mall security tapes, you know with the whole Owen was killed there things and..."

"Yeah, that's great, I think I'll stay behind and work on some...stuff, murder stuff you know?"

"Yeah, gotta help Peyton and the others solve this murder, make the world go round again."

"Yeah..."

"Yeah..."

There was another moment of pause before Geoff finally walked out of there, until Peyton pushed him back into the office.

"Dr. B, I've found the murder weapon! It's...why is there mistletoe hanging in you office?" All three looked at the spring of mistletoe that the doctor had forgotten to put away.

"That's just decorations, Peyton, now what were you trying to say?" While Bridgette hated lying it was definitely a lesser evil than telling the truth in this situation right now.

Peyton stared for a few seconds and with unexpected speed continued talking as if nothing happened. "A candy cane: that was the murder weapon," he paused, "well, it's actually a fake one. You know those giant decorative candy canes? I found minute traces of red paint on the skull, at first we thought it was blood but after a while I was able to trace the paint to its maker. They made the candy canes used at the mall display. This company uses a special lightweight coloured chrome covering so yeah, pretty brutal if you get hit by one of these."

"Great, we'll call the CSIs and have a look there. Good work Peyton." With that Bridgette and Geoff quickly walked out of the office as fast as they could before their coworker could question the mistletoe even more.

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I'm telling you, these displays are cleaned every night. Even if it is a murder scene I doubt you'll find anything," Ms. Lockeheart fiddled with her expensive looking necklace as uniformed clad people snapped pictures and took samples of the Santa Claus setting in the currently closed mall. A few extra elves and Santas had gathered around, their interests peaked from watching the scene from the pub where they were celebrating a good season's end (minus the murder of course.) Unfortunately the mall was clearly underfunded as the area was not under video surveillance, and the security guards there were either middle aged snoozers or teens just passing g in the job to make a few bucks. None of them had bothered going there as there was usually a Santa Claus temp worker fixing things up.

"Blood is actually very hard to clean completely, usually ultraviolet lights well do," the scientist replied. Bridgette turned towards the crime scene technicians, "given the nature of this crime we're obviously looking for low-velocity impact spatters."

As if on cue one of the techs announced, "I've found blood stains on one of the candy canes."

Casting an "I told you so" look towards the secretary she marched off towards the technician, without even saying a word to Geoff, which for some reason was becoming a new trend recently, leaving him a moment alone with Lockeheart.

"You know you shouldn't flash your jewellery like that, unless you want to be mugged of course."

"Oh of course, how silly of me. My boyfriend got me these and, well, you know how women are. I'm sure you've dated quite a few." She briskly ran her fingers up his arm, to which Geoff quickly pulled back, a little perturbed. First the kiss, now this?

"And, uh, who's your boyfriend?"

Lockeheart sighed, "I know I probably should've told you and Dr. Dodson earlier, but he's or he was Luke Vaughn. I'm sorry I didn't think it was important."

"Uh huh, you didn't think it was important to say that you dated a murder suspect. Did you know where he got the money for your gifts?"

"No! Of course not, who do you think I am?" she spoke a little too quickly for Geoff's liking but before he could reply his partner called him over.

"Geoff, we think we found how come there was so little blood on the floor," he looked and saw that, not only had they already bagged the killer candy, but they had lifted the rug where the fake presents were placed. There, on the newly revealed area shone a UV light revealing small round blood stains.

"Why is it round?" confusion was evident in his face, "Aren't blood stains, you know...more splat?" His accompanying hand gesture did not amuse Bridgette who merely replied in a professional tone, "Bloodstains that have dripped due to gravity depend on the type of surface it collides with. On a smooth surface like glass or these waxed floors stains are circular or more 'clean' while on uneven surfaces like concrete, that's where you find your 'splat.' But that's not the point look at this empty bag used for toys," she shone the UV light, showing large amounts of blood in it. "Most likely the murderer stuffed Owen in here so he/she could drag him outside, to the car. Then the killer came back, filled the bag with fake presents and toys, cleaned the area and then moved the display slightly to cover the area. Who here has access to the mall after closure?"

One of the Santas moved forward from the crowd and answered, "The Santa Claus display always attracts lots of people and donations which means a lot to this cheap skate mall, so the mall give the agency a copy of the keys."

"So we're back to square one," Geoff sighed, "this is not turning out to be the Christmas I wanted."

"We're not through yet, I think I've found something." Bridgette reached deep into the bag with a pair of tweezers, something quite difficult when you only have one good hand. Geoff had asked her to slow down for a while and let the others do most of the work but she was steadfast. "Got it!" Smiling like she found a pot of gold she held up her hand with the tweezers holding something. Geoff turned his head to different angles to try to guess the name of this mysterious object, until his partner blandly replied, "it's a piece of a fingernail."

A flash of realization ran across his face, "Oh..." he paused, "but it's green. Why would anyone wear green nail polish it's totally not a good colour...not that I know anything about makeup or anything..."

"Well I know someone who had a broken nail and colours them in Christmas colours..." she trailed off, looking at Ms. Anna Lockeheart who was trying to make a run for it.

"Hey, that secretary killed Owen, get her!" With the bravado of an army of overweight knights the Santa Clauses dog piled her; definitely not the best thing to experience.

"Whoa, okay guys get off of her, we don't need to put her in a hospital, a jail would be just fine." Geoff, managed to pull some of the guys off of her, with the help of the other officers, finally hauling Lockeheart up roughly by the arm and cuffing her while reading her rights.

Bridgette stared at the dishevelled women incomprehensively, "I don't understand, why did you kill him? He was such a nice guy..."

"I think I know," Geoff said roughly, "she was in on the whole pickpocketing business with her boyfriend Vaughn. When Owen found out you weren't sure if Vaughn's bribe could keep him silent, so you decided to have an after hours talk with him. One thing led to another, Owen tried to leave, you hit him with the candy cane, he blocked you at first..."

"Which explains the broken wrist..." she realized gravely.

"And then you hit him in the head." He finished, his face unemotional.

"I didn't mean to do it!" The murderer shouted, in hysterics, "I didn't know it would kill him, he was freaking out, wasn't sure what to do I just did it to stop him from going crazy and running off. I didn't mean it...I just...panicked" Finally the usually cheery face of secretary Anna Lockeheart was flooding with tears.

Geoff pulled her towards the police van through the crowd of stone faced Santas, but not before turning around and seeing Bridgette shake her head sadly before turning slowly and ordering the technicians.

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_Some Time Later..._

"_It's a change that reaches down and suddenly lifts you…"_

Bridgette, Geoff and Gwen slowly walked together in the cemetery, their feet leaving small prints in the snow that was beginning to cover the grass.

"_At the end, of a rainy day when you sat alone and cried…"_

The place was almost completely remote, (not too many people want to go to a cemetery during Christmas time) the trees that were sparsely planted were all bare, except for the softly falling snow that begins to land on it.

_We've been coming here way too many times lately_ Geoff thought, casting a glance at the two women at his side, the blonde holding a bouquet of flowers and the other holding a framed photo.

"_It's a sign, that lets you know there is a life awaiting…"_

Finally they reached their destination and found that they weren't the only ones there. Leshawna was standing beside Beth, who was holding a suitcase, obviously on her way to the family farm afterwards.

The trio stopped and stood beside the other two, they looked at each other, not a word spoken, because not a word needed to be.

"_The day, you make your peace with the love in you that died…"_

"I guess nice people unfortunately do finish last, huh?" Beth said breaking the silence as she read Owen's grave stone.

Tearfully Bridgette knelt down and placed the bouquet at the foot of the stone, as she thought about her job and all the people and things she sees and all the crooks she and Geoff catch. "What a bittersweet success." she said under her breathe.

Gwen was next placing down the framed photo of the two of them on Total Drama Island, "I really would've split the money with you big guy."

"I called the penitentiary, they'll be bringing Izzy over under close guard so that she could, you know say good bye," Leshawna mentioned, wishing she could lean on Harold's shoulder for support.

"_When the pain dies down…And the dam becomes a river…"_

"You know, I bet Owen would love that. In fact, I bet he's looking down on us happy that people still care about him.

The wind blow suddenly and Bridgette's spiritual side could've sworn she heard laughter coming from somewhere, "I think you might be right Geoff." She looked at him and smiled, feeling her cheeks blush. _Maybe the kiss was a sign…_

"_The fire burns out under the rain…"_

"Well I better get going if I want to catch my train, Merry Christmas you guys. Good luck in the afterlife Owen." Beth left, carrying her surprisingly small case with her. Leshawna followed Beth out of the gates of the cemetery.

"_Can you feel it now? It's gone from you forever..."_

After a moments silence Geoff finally spoke, "Come on, let's go home, Gwen you have to get up early to catch your flight to your mom's place and Bridgette has to pack for her stay with me and my family."

"It's my family and I, and what makes you so sure I was going to say yes?"

He, thinking about the kiss, placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, cautious about the sling, "Let's just say I know you too well."

"_Fading out under the rain…"_

And they walked away in content silence, knowing that wherever Owen may be, whether in an afterlife, or truly just buried six feet under, he would've been happy that despite it all, he'd brought his friends closer together.

"_When the pain dies down...."_

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There my long over due upate had finally been posted. Again I apologise, I've been trying to have better time management, but you can see how that turned out.

Hopefully i'll ahve time in the future write fics and update them in good time. I already planned the next fic and am wanting to update some of my other stories, so we'll see.

Admittingly i like the end of this chapter more than the beginning For those of you wondering, the song lyrics in the quotations are form "When The Pain Dies Down" by Chris Stills It's a very good song and the tune really sets up the mood for the end. You can have a listen if you want to: http://( ).( )com/watch?v=( )1upCCKA6YS8 just take away the parenthesis ( ) and you should be able to get there

So...will Geoff and Bridgette hook up sometime in this series? All I'm gonna say is maybe, but it does look like Bridge's resolve is slowly crumbling down...


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